


Just Another Day in Paradise

by OkayKaylyn



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2836862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkayKaylyn/pseuds/OkayKaylyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One part parenting, one part domesticity</p><p>Prompt: Domestic Gallavich 5-10 years down the road</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Day in Paradise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Title from the song Just Another Day in Paradise by Phil Vassar. And okay, the timeline is like, Ian and Mickey have been together since season 1, and I'm pretending each season is a year, so they were together 4 years until Yevgeny was born. So Yevgeny is 7, but they've been together for like 11 years. (hey if Shameless' timeline can be fucked up, so can mine) Also, I may or may not have been listening to the song “Paint” by Travis Garland feat. Jojo while writing the second part.

Yevgeny crashes through the front door, Ian following behind him with a bemused look. “Hey Mick,” Ian calls into the living room “Yev's got a great idea he wants to run past you.” 

Yevgeny jumps onto the couch next to his dad, who's watching some action movie that he knows he's not supposed to watch when Yevgeny is around “Momma wants a baby,” Yevgeny starts out, blunt as usual, “And if you be the dad, we'll be family!” 

Mickey's mouth drops open with an audible 'pop' and his eyes flick between Yev and Ian, before finally settling on his partner “That car ride was 10 fucking minutes long, how'd he come up with this?”

Ian ignores the swear word to put his hands up in surrender “Hey, he was talking like that when Svetlana brought him out.” He settles on the couch next to Mickey, discreetly turning off the action movie while wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 

“Which one does he call “Momma” again?” Mickey mumbles, reaching for the remote to turn the tv back on.

“Nika,” Ian responds quietly, stuffing the remote into the couch cushion. “He calls Svetlana “mom”.”

“Nika wants a baby?” Mickey directs this question to his son, whose attention had already been stolen by his gameboy. 

“Uhh yeah.” Yevgeny replies, never taking his eyes off the screen. They had bought him the game for Christmas, it wasn't the newest version of the D.S, but nothing in their house was new.

“Yev,” Ian scolds, leaning across Mickey to pull the game out of his hands “We're having a discussion.” 

“Uh-oh, “discussion” means I'm in trouble” Yevgeny concludes, folding his hands in his lap and giving his fathers an exaggerated puppy-dog look.

Both men roll their eyes simultaneously. “You're not in trouble,” Ian starts.

“We just wanna talk about what the fuck you said earlier.” Mickey says, rough words incongruent with his soft tone. 

“Language,” Ian mumbles to Mickey. Then, to his son, “Tell your dad what you told me in the car.” They only lived a town away from Svetlana and her partner Nika, so Yevgeny was with them during the day, and with his dads at night.

“Mom and momma want a baby, but they need a dad for the baby.” He starts picking at a scab on his knee that he got from a rough game of soccer with his uncle Liam, “And if you were the dad, then we'd be family, even if mom wasn't the mom.”

Mickey sighs and looks to Ian for help, family issues were his area. “Yev, you know that's not how family works.” Their family was far from the traditional one. 

Ian takes his arm off Mickey shoulder so that he can tangle their fingers together, letting their intertwined hands rest on Mickey's thigh. “Family doesn't have to be by blood. We're family and we're not related by blood.” Mickey gives his hand a squeeze of encouragement when Ian falters for a second, always afraid of Yevgeny rejecting him.

“But that doesn't make me any less of your dad, right? Or Fiona and Debbie an less of your aunts?” Yevgeny shrugs, still picking at his scab. 

Mickey uses his unoccupied hand to swat at Yev's, not wanting his son to grow up with scars, even from something as innocent as a picked at scab.

“And Nika's still your mom, yeah?” Yev shrugs at that too, now biting at the nail bed of his thumb. “So even if Mickey isn't the dad of Nika's baby, it'll still be family.”

Yevgeny looks at the pictures hanging on the wall, pictures of him with his dads, pictures of him with his moms, even pictures of him with the whole Gallagher clan. There's also a picture of Mandy and Debbie with their arms around each others shoulders, and one of Kev and Vee, hugging Yevgeny and their twins.

His eyes flick to the picture on the fireplace, a picture of him and Liam, his uncle who isn't even the same color as him, but who he'd defend as family in a heartbeat.

“How big is our family, exactly?” He asks, finally looking at his dads.

They both attempt to stifle their laughs, Mickey speaking up first “Pretty freaking big.” He remember's Ian's 20th birthday party, with all of the Gallaghers, the Ball's, Mickey and Mandy, and even Svetlana was there, holding Yevgeny and glaring at everyone. 

“Kid, you've got a lot of people looking out for you.” He informs his son, ruffling his hair in a way he never thought he would when Yevgeny was born, 7 years earlier. Ian smiles at him, leaning close to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. Their family wasn't traditional, but it was sure as hell genuine.

\------

“So Yev's at his mom's all day, and we've got the house all to ourselves...” Ian smiles at his partner suggestively, leaning forward towards him, “What do you wanna do?”

They rarely had time to their selves anymore, they worked all day, and whenever they weren't working, they were taking care of their son. But, on occasion, Svetlana would be very generous and offer to watch him on one of their days off.

Mickey lets himself lean into Ian's orbit for a second, eyes flicking to his lips and entertaining the idea of kissing him and never stopping, before he forces himself away with a groan. “I'd love to say have crazy, loud sex all day, but we really gotta paint the living room.”

The previous owners of their house were this nice elderly couple, with fucking terrible taste, if the fuchsia living room was anything to go by. The first, and only, time they tried to paint it, Yevgeny had gotten into the paint and tracked it all over the house. Luckily, they had wood floors and were able to wipe it up, but he'd also eaten some and they had to take a trip to the emergency room.

“Ugh,” Ian jokingly complains “Why can't we just hire someone to do it, while we have crazy, loud sex.”

Mickey smiles, amused. “Okay because 1, I'm not having crazy, loud sex with a stranger in our house. And 2, we're poor as fuck.” Ian rolls his eyes at that.

“We're at least upper-low class. Maybe even lower-middle class.” Ian retorts, following Mickey into the garage to grab the paint.

“Oh ho, lower-middle class, maybe I can finally buy that yacht I've had my eyes on.” Mickey teases, handing Ian a can of paint before grabbing his own.

“Please, you hate boats.” Ian contradicts, leading Mickey back into their living room. They pop the lids off the paint and get to work.

When they bought the house it was a real fixer-upper, and they knew that it'd take forever to become their dream house. But they were in it for the long haul.

They paint quietly for nearly an hour before Ian accidentally pulls the paintbrush out of the can too quickly, splattering Mickey's pants with the 'Rhino Bher' gray paint. They both stare at the stain with open mouths, Ian's of amusement and Mickey's of surprise.

Ian starts to apologize, but barely gets out the word “I'm” before Mickey flicks his brush in his direction, getting paint on his face.

Ian raises a hand to slowly wipe the paint off his cheek, he even pretends to examine it for a second. Then he charges.

Mickey meets him halfway, painting a stripe down his nose. Ian retaliates by dipping his hand in the paint can and smearing it on his partners neck. Mickey waits until Ian turns around to grab more paint, to shove the paintbrush into his hair, covering red with gray. 

The fighting quickly turns to kissing, which easily turns to fucking, paint be damned. 

“Shit,” Ian breathes, lying back onto the hardwood floor with Mickey settling down next to him. “I'm never getting that nasty paint taste out of my mouth.”

Mickey laughs so hard he bangs his head on the floor, “Fuck, Ian, is that really your biggest worry here?” he makes a grand sweeping gesture with a paint-covered arm. “This room is fucking covered with paint.”

Ian sits up to inspect the room. The floor was indeed covered with paint, random specks, stripes, and puddles of it everywhere. Their leather couch that they had pushed into the corner before painting had even gotten some paint on it. And the wall they had been working on was just a complete mess.

Ian lies back down, reaching a hand towards Mickey, who takes it and starts playing with Ian's fingers “We're never gonna get this room painted, are we?” Mickey asks rhetorically, sitting up to scooch closer to Ian.

“I don't know” Ian muses, tipping his head back to look at the wall again “I kinda like the fuchsia/gray mix thing we got going on.” 

Mickey shoves Ian's hand back at him and lays his head on Ian's chest, sighing deeply. “Oh well, I guess we're just gonna have to learn to love it.”

Ian starts running his hands though Mickey's hair, hard with dried paint. “Like you did with me?” He asks facetiously, earning a smack to his stomach. 

Ian thinks about the ring he had bought 2 days before, just a simple white gold band that he hid in the pocket of one his long sleeved dress shirts. He takes a shuddery breath and pulls Mickey tighter against him, the thought of proposing scarier and more exciting than anything else he'd done in his life.

They lay like that for only a few more minutes before the sound of a car pulling into the driveway alerts them. “Shit, is it 5 already?” Mickey asks, lifting his head off of Ian's chest. They quickly disentangle and pull their sweatpants on, Ian tossing Mickey his shirt, while Mickey kicks their discarded boxers under the couch.

They're almost completely dressed when Svetlana walks into the living room, followed closely by Yevgeny. She rolls her eyes at them, while Yevgeny just glares.

Svetlana quietly hands Ian his shirt while Yevgeny admonishes “So you guys can play with the paint but I can't?” He crosses his skinny arms across his chest “How is that fair?”

“Is not fair” Svetlana answers, pulling her son back towards the front door “Lets give time to clean up.” when Yevgeny turns his glare on her, she sighs and offers “We go for ice cream?” which easily gets him out the door.

Once the front door is shut and they hear the car driving away, Ian and Mickey turn to each other and laugh embarrassedly. Ian wraps his arms around Mickey's waist, who in turn, kisses him. 

“Ugh, that's disgusting.” Ian announces once the kiss ends, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Mickey shakes his head at the embellished action and wraps his arms around Ian's neck.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, pressing himself tighter against Ian “You love it.”

Ian can't help the dopey smile that takes over his face when he returns his arms to Mickey's waist, thinking again about the ring hidden in their closet, “Yeah, I do.”


End file.
